


a conversation in the late afternoon sun

by oneatatime



Category: Kamen Rider Saber
Genre: Gen, dealing with one aspect of all the crap around episode 16 or so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29017182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: Ren’s arms were so tight around him it was hard to draw breath.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	a conversation in the late afternoon sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



The two of them dumped Ren in one of the red velvet chairs in a back room. It was a sitting room, conference room, or something like that. Mismatched chairs, a table, dusty gold curtains open enough to allow the late afternoon sun inside. 

Ren glared up at them, tried to stand, and in perfect synchronicity they slammed him back. Hard enough to make the chair rock back on two legs. “Just a moment, Ren,” Ryo said, gently enough, hand on his shoulder. It was both comfort and warning.

He looked at Tetsuo, while keeping one eye on the freaked out swordsman in the chair in front of them. Tetsuo said, “Rintaro.” 

“I’ll be fine here.” 

It was good, as always, to have that level of communication with Tetsuo. The other man just understood things, and kept his head. Rintaro was marginally more in control than Ren, but only marginally, and was clearly devastated at the thought of any kind of accusation against Sword of Logos. Ryo and Tetsuo had both been through… difficulties… before.

(Ryo still dreamed about Hayato, sometimes.) 

While they were both still loyal to Logos and particularly to specific people within it, they were somewhat more aware of nuances. 

The most important thing at the time had been to clear Ren out of there before someone got killed, and Ryo was still wincing internally at how Mei had scrambled to put herself in front of Touma. But Rintaro needed support, too. Ryo hadn’t liked the way Rintaro was talking when they’d all been hit so embarrassingly efficiently and had lost their suits. He hadn’t liked the distress on Touma’s face, either. Whether or not Touma was actually betraying them in any way – and whether or not he was even aware of it, if he was doing so – Ryo liked Touma himself. He didn’t want him to be hurt like that. 

Tetsuo ran out of the room, long legs working in that energy-conserving, distance-devouring way. The door fell shut behind him.

Ren was out of the chair about a millisecond later. In spite of his grip on Ren’s shoulder, Ryo found himself shoved against the wall next to the door. Shoulders and ass uncomfortably squashed against the wood, with Ren’s forearm across his collarbones. He was only an inch or so shorter than Ren. There were times when Ryo was reminded that an inch or so still counted, when it came to leverage. Ren was slighter than he was, but he had the power of anger behind him. 

His eyes were wild. Pupils huge. 

“Touma’s a traitor! You know it, I know it, everyone knows it!” 

Ryo raised his eyebrows, not interested in escalating this for the moment. He kept his voice calm, but with a note of warning. “Nope. We don’t know that at all. The four of us tried to talk to him today, but it didn’t go how we’d hoped, and we weren’t doing any good by sticking around. We all need to figure out another approach, and take it slow. Not go in on instinct. We can’t win by beating him up.”

Emotionally, definitely not. And physically? Maybe, if that sword wasn’t around, but only maybe. And Ryo was beginning to realise just how much they’d actually lose if they did pound Touma into the ground. 

Trying to jail Touma wouldn’t get him Hayato back. 

There was an anguished grunt. Ren shoved him harder, and in a flurry of movement Ryo grabbed his wrist, swivelled, and threw him over a hip. A training throw, rotating him enough that he’d hit the polished wooden floor with his back, not his head. No matter how little attention he was paying. 

Leverage counted. Not being out of your mind with grief and anger counted, too. 

He gave Ren a few seconds to lie there and pant, then offered a hand. Ren took it though surliness practically dripped off him, and Ryo pulled him to his feet. 

“Don’t you _care?_ ” 

Ryo’s fingers tightened on Ren’s wrist. 

“About Kento? Of course I do, and so does Touma,” he said, anger sparking through him. They should probably sit, instead of standing in the middle of the room like two idiots. He didn’t want to keep sparring, or whatever the hell this was. But he had a sense that Ren was done fighting. Maybe. Perhaps. 

Then he saw the utter misery in Ren’s eyes. 

“He was yours, just like he was mine. He was yours just as much as Fukamiya-san’s. Maybe more.”

Ryo looked off into the middle distance for a moment at that, vaguely ignoring the sunlight warming the side of his face. Ren wasn’t… wasn’t wrong. He’d cared for Kento like his own for so many years, after Hayato abandoned them all (abandoned him, abandoned his _son_ ). He missed Kento so hard it hurt him sometimes, at the base of his skull, in the pit of his stomach, in the twitching of his feet which should’ve been planted solidly on the earth. It wasn’t okay. Kento should be around, training with all of them. Being Ren’s friend. His brother. 

He wasn’t completely comfortable with Ren claiming Kento like this. There were okay ways to do that, and not so okay ways, but it was probably just quibbling over word choice to raise it now. The emotions mattered more. 

“I know you love him, too,” he said roughly. 

“’Loved’,” Ren corrected, with a hitch in his breath. “I loved him so much, Ogami-san, and he’s gone, and I-“

Ryo pulled him into his arms. 

“You can say ‘love’,” he said into Ren’s hair. Ren’s arms were so tight around him it was hard to draw breath. “It doesn’t stop just because the person’s gone.” 

Ren wilted at that, and Ryo held him through the sobs. 

They’d still have to talk. Have to figure out what the hell was going on, and how they could all work together to fix it. They’d just have to be careful that they didn’t condemn Touma on no real evidence. But this would do, for now.

Ryo blotted his own eyes on his sleeve, and went back to rubbing Ren’s back very gently. Ren was a good guy, and for now, at least, the aggression was gone out of him. 

Grief could mess up anyone. 

(He hated that Ren crying like his heart was crumbling inside him was an improvement. Hated it so very fucking much.)


End file.
